as i'm pulling out of the drive, on my way to buy cookies, i suddenly get the urge to turn the wheel in an aimless direction and follow one of the many mysterious visalian roads out of this place until morning. but just as i reached the end of the drive, Some Bullshit Escape plays up through the fashionable tape i made myself and out into the tiny personal speakers. perfect timing, really.

these things are always better in the planning stages. it all seems so romantic and cathartic; but no matter where i go by myself, i'm still lonely. i'm just lonely in a new place.

i watched Texas Chainsaw Massacre with commentary tonight. somehow, everything seems very surreal now.

you know, driving alone at night is very romantic and it's surprising for me to say so. looking straight ahead, the lights dance around your collar and the music is your soundtrack. because we all know that romance equals film. or film equals romance. even experimental film. actually... my life, as of late, is most certainly independent experimental cinematography. it's the only thing i have to keep it interesting, i think. fixed push shots on the streetlights and road, adding my own tint of green.

i defy your script formulas and write my climax in the quietest way possible; and the resolution is a trip back to the drive. park the car. write dis-eloquent independent experimental prose about all of it. eat cookies.